


For the Moment

by Oboeist3



Series: Tangled Red Strings [3]
Category: Eureka (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, Jack Carter is the master of unhealthy coping mechanisms, Love Confessions, Multi, Serious Discussions That Are No Fun For Anyone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-20
Updated: 2017-05-20
Packaged: 2018-11-02 17:32:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10949376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oboeist3/pseuds/Oboeist3
Summary: warning: semi-graphic depiction of an anxiety attack, really sucky intrusive thoughts





	For the Moment

**Author's Note:**

> warning: semi-graphic depiction of an anxiety attack, really sucky intrusive thoughts

Nathan doesn't get nervous. Hasn't since he was a child, conditioned by a strict family and ever-growing ego. He can get scared, yes, of dying, of losing. But being nervous means you aren't confident in your decisions, and given the information and a logical mind, he always is. Well, except for when it comes to matters of the heart. In that, he's as flawed as anyone.

Maybe more flawed, he thinks to himself, as he paces a hole in the concrete in front of the surgery room door. He knows, of course, what's going on inside. He's a medical doctor, his residency accelerated and tucked in between his physics grad school, since he was only going to focus on the tiny parts inside people rather than their general maladies, but he knows how they handle broken ribs.

Even considering how the timelines had bled through, there's only so much damage Jack could've taken and still been conscious. Damage they can fix here, if nowhere else in the world. He's going to be fine. But that doesn't explain why he's panicky, why he can't sit still, why he's so fucking nervous that he feels his heart is going to jump out of his chest.

"Nathan." Comes a voice so carefully neutral, he knows without looking who it is.  
  
"Allison." he says, and stops pacing. He turns to face her, placing his hands in his usual 'at ease' stance and cataloguing the information his eyes are giving him. She's not wearing the dress, thankfully, has changed into one of her businesslike blouse and pencil skirt combos. Her face is also arranged in a fragile professionalism. Like he's a specimen not quite cooperating.  
  
"Fargo told me what happened."  
  
Those five words seek to undo his own attempt at remaining calm, he runs a hand through his hair, bites back obscenities. A few seconds later, he manages to ask.

“Who else knows?” Fargo, bless his soul, is a chatterbox, almost worse than Vincent, who at least pretended to be oblivious. If he talks, everyone will hear, and then Jack would be ruined.  
  
She laughs, but it’s not a happy one. “No one. I managed to convince him to stay quiet.” Nathan shudders, knowing all too well the terror Allison Blake can inspire. It’s funny though. The only person they didn’t want to know….is the only one who does. Living in this town is hell sometimes.

“How long?” she asks, and he doesn’t bother trying to avoid it. She deserves better than that. Still, this isn’t the place to talk about it.

“Let’s go to your office.” he says, casting one last glance at surgery as the brisk click-clack of their shoes on concrete echoes. The doctors can fix Jack physically, but whatever this mess is, it’s going to leave scars.

Once they’re in the windowed office, the door locked, glass tinted so only their shadows could be seen to the scientists still making their way out of GD, Nathan feels safer. They’re not in the public eye, it’s just them and this looming question. A question he’s not prepared to jump straight into.

“What does Ms. Thorne know about the time loops?” he asks, leaning against the table. Allison is sitting on one of the couches, looking both annoyed and a little grateful that the question is not the larger one.

“Just another Eureka disaster. She’ll be asking about the specifics tomorrow, but for now, she’s just glad we’re alive.”

“I know the feeling.” he says, smiles a little. Allison’s expression tightens.

“You shouldn’t have done that, Nathan. There was every chance you could have died.”

“It was me or the universe. I feel like the choice was obvious.” he says, shrugging.

“Not to me.” she says, and Nathan’s coolness evaporates.

“I’m sorry.” He says, voice quiet, fragile. They’ve never been good about talking about this up front.

“Seeing as you’re still alive, I suppose I’ll forgive you.” she cedes, wearing one of those soft smiles he can never hope to be good enough to earn, but somehow manages to.

It fades when their reason for being here actually emerges. “How long?”

“Months. It started because I hated the way he looked at you, like you were his world. As if he had any right to do so. It was just sex for a long time. And then….it wasn’t. I found more fondness in his antics than malice. He was insufferable, and beautiful. After the spores, we found it a mutual feeling. But I loved you, still love you, and I had to make a choice. I chose you. Broke it off completely when Beverly captured you and Kevin. He understood, hell, I think he’s the only person who would have. But then…I was going to die and he looked at me like the world was ending and not the other way around. Begged me to let him take the bullet, as if his own existence didn’t matter. Like he was replaceable and I wasn’t. And I realized that even though I love you more than I’ll ever be able to say, part of my affections had been stolen by him, and he didn’t know. So I made sure he did, and despite everything I don’t regret it.” he says, doesn’t bother to filter because she deserves the truth in all its terrible reality, no matter what it means for him, or for them.

She’s quiet for a long time, thinking, processing the new data. He can’t see where her thoughts are, she keeps them locked up behind neutrality. Eventually, she sighs, and a formulated reply falls from her lips.

“I’m not mad that you slept with Carter. Ok, part of me is, but I recognize we didn’t make any promises of monogamy when we started this. I just wish you had told me. We did make a promise about secrets, Nathan. No more of them. Not about work, and not about our personal lives. I thought this time…you trusted me.” she confesses, her voice tight, and Nathan feels his heart crack a little. He moves over to her, bends down on his knees, clasps her hands in his and makes her look at him.

“Allie, I do trust you. It wasn’t about me, about pride or shame. I thought that if you knew, you’d treat Jack differently. I didn’t want to ruin your relationship, even if that meant I lost you. He’s a good man, he could give you something I can’t by design.” he says, trying so hard to make her understand that this was never about anything wrong with her. She was perfect, even in all her flaws. He kisses her, soft and caring and short, because the words would never be enough. She doesn’t kiss back, but she lets him, which he thinks might be more than he deserves.

“I can’t promise I would’ve treated him the same. How could anyone? But…I think I understand, even if I don’t like it.” she says. “I’m going to need time to figure this out, Nathan. I thought I knew who I was going to marry, and now I’m not sure.”

Nathan draws back at the words, they hurt, even in all their reasonable nature, but emotions never ceded to reason.

“Of course. Ask me anything you like, I’m an open book.” he promises, he has to now. After what his actions made her feel. “But…if you need someone to blame, Allie, please let it be me.” He can’t make up for what he did, but if he could keep Allison’s opinion of Jack intact, he might be ok.

Allison doesn’t reply, just stands up and walks out, leaving him kneeling on the floor like a beggar to a higher power. He wishes, at times like these, that he could believe in a God that makes things better. But the scientist born and bred in him can only hope for a solution that satisfies all parties, or at least one that doesn’t fall to pieces.

* * *

Jack wakes up in a blur of dull pain and soft beeps. His eyes feel too heavy to move, so he just lies there, lets his senses fine-tune themselves again. He’s done this a lot over the last year or so, and while it doesn’t ever get easier, he has managed to scrap together a basic routine.

First, listen to your body. If there’s sharp pain, (a thankfully rare occurrence), ask for help. GD has its fair share of problems but they’ve got good doctors. If not, just rest. Age old cure. Second, try to remember why you’re there. He hasn’t yet had the misfortune of being hospitalized in the middle of an investigation, but he has at its conclusion, and there are probably loose ends he needs to fix. Third, find out about Zoe’s whereabouts. Usually she’s by his side when he wakes, or just out of sight, but in theory whatever hurt him could’ve affected her too and he needs to be there for her.

He allows some time for his body and brain to reconnect, categorizes his injuries. Broken ribs, for sure, and something closer to the surface in the same area. (Puncture wound?) There are minor bruises and scrapes all over, not enough to be of too much interest on their own, but together add another layer of pain to this sucky cake.

How did he acquire them? He reaches out to his memories, pudgy clouds of thoughts not quite within the grasp of mental fingertips. Of all the days he had to get hurt, it had to be the day of the wedding. Whose wedding? Someone important. Someone he cared about. Forest green eyes. Too wide smile.

“See you around, Jack.”

“Nathan!” he gasps, shoots up. Pain erupts from his lower abdomen up his chest and he groans, lowers himself back down. The beeping from the machines becomes shriller, and a nurse rushes over to check on him, examining him before making things quiet again.

“Sheriff Carter, you shouldn’t be moving. You just got out of surgery.” says the nurse, obviously surprised he was even conscious. What could he say? He was a marvel.

“Where’s my daughter?” he asks, he couldn’t remember if she was involved yet. If she’s hurt, he’s going to be there.

“She’s fine.” he says calmly. “She’s with her aunt at your home. We’ve forbidden visitors until tomorrow. Please, you should get some rest.”

Jack breaths out a sigh of relief, then remembers more. “What about N-Stark? What happened to him?”

“Dr. Stark was waiting for you to get out of surgery but the Director wished to see him.”

“Allison?” he asks, panic setting in. No, he wasn’t letting Stark take the fall for this, this was all his fault, he needed to explain that! He tries to sit up again but the nurse keeps him down, surprisingly strong considering how skinny he looks.

“Sheriff, you shouldn’t be moving. You had some major internal bleeding, you have to let it heal. If you don’t stop resisting, I will be forced to knock you out.”

Jack stops, knowing it futile to continue, and though his brain is racing with anxieties about Stark and Allison, his body is too worn out to support them, and he eventually falls to rest again.

~~~

The next time he wakes, Zoe is there, poking at a tablet, bangs hiding her eyes. Instinctively, he reaches out a hand to brush them free, lets out a breathy curse as pain shoots across his abdomen again. His daughter looks up, concern shining in her eyes.

“Dad?” she says. “Are you ok?”

“Been better.” he admits, voice hoarse. “But I’ll live. Where’s Lexi?”

“She’s waiting outside. Some of the doctors are talking about timelines and foreign particles, doesn’t want to expose the baby. Dad, what happened?”

“Eureka.” he manages to say. He’s too exhausted to go into any detail, assuming he can even remember.

“I know _that_. I’m talking about Dr. Stark. He tried to visit earlier, but he left when he saw us. Since when does he care what happens to you?” she asks, accusingly.

“Since he and Allison are getting married.” he lies, even now he can’t help but protect him. “No competition.”

“The wedding was called off.” she says, and Jack has to force himself not to react, to give it all away, though his brain is overwhelmed and under-furnished to handle such a statement.

“What?” he says eventually, brow furrowed with wrinkles. Luckily Zoe doesn’t catch onto the real surprise in his voice.

“I know! I mean, at first, we all thought it was just because of the circumstances, but now Fargo’s a nervous wreck, more the usual, and he let it slip to Vince that Stark and Allison aren’t talking, that he’s going back to his own house, and no one knows what happened!” No one, except for him.

“They’re not….talking.” he says, his senses feeling skewed again, for completely different reasons. Zoe notices, calls for a nurse, and everything blurs until consciousness isn’t his but the words still echo. Wedding off. Not talking.  
  
All his fault.

~~~

When he wakes up again, he’s not in the hospital. He’s at home, in his bed. The clock reads eleven twenty-seven AM. He’s wearing a pair of sweats and an old, too big shirt. He feels the pressure of bandages around his midriff, and patches of those micro-whatevers on the bruises and scrapes. His body is obviously on the mend, but his brain is as scattered as it’s ever been.

He remembers everything, every detail of that day’s repeats, the way he nicked his chin shaving, the way the sky bent and how Nathan smiled when he saved the world. But his feelings, his ability to process these facts and put them into context, that wasn’t with him. It was somewhere else. So he repeats mentally each moment, loops them, until something catches a reaction.

‘Stark and Allison aren’t talking.’ Zoe says, her voice holding the same shocked awe as her employer must have had when he’d told her. Not talking. Not together. No one knows why. But Allison knows. She must know. Why else?  
  
He’d ruined it.

His stomach lurches, and before he knows it, he’s in the bathroom, kneeling over the toilet, emptying the contents of his stomach (not much), as SARAH worriedly asks what’s wrong, if he’s ok. He doesn’t answer, he can’t. His mind is too busy replaying the words, over and over, driving his own guilt into his brain.

This isn’t the first time this has happened. His anxiety attacks were infrequent but overwhelming, his entire self absorbed in whatever had sent him down the rabbit hole. His body shakes, his throat gets tight. Vision is a blur of hot tears and bright colors, his senses all hypersensitive or deadened. Hearing gets the former, this time.

"Sheriff, I am calling Dr. Blake for assistance." SARAH says, the sweet falsetto of her voice not enough to smooth over the implications of it. A word tears out of his throat, raw and half-broken.

"No!" he cries, blindly grabbing at the air, as if that could stop her. "Not her, please."

"I'm sorry Sheriff; she's already on her way."

"Fuck." he says, moving to stand. He had to do _something_ , anything! But he's so heavy with drugs and panic that nothing will come to him. No solutions or plans or anything. He's so full of chaos he might as well be blank. Anger bubbles up, at SARAH, and at everything else. Why did this have to happen? Why couldn't he have just kept himself to himself, or picked one of them?

Jack catches sight of himself in the mirror, haggard, bile sticking to his lips, and hates it. Hates the man and everything he stood for. His fist connects with the glass. Cracks pop onto its surface, destructive spiderwebs. He watches the slow path of red from his hand to the sink, a thousand fractured eyes following him. He laughs, even as his ribs ache and his breath runs out.

That's where Allison finds him, wheezing laughter as he clutched the sink, bleeding. Looking like a madman. Which he was, in a way.

"Carter?" she says, tentative. When Jack looks at her, the welled up tears and words alike fall, dominos.

"Isn't it funny? I break everything I touch. My relationships, my work. Even myself." he says, raising a finger to trace all the little Jacks, covered in cracks. A few of them smile. It's a small and horrible thing, more broken than the lot of them.

"It's not Nathan who messed up. It was me. Always has been. I'm sorry. I don't expect you to forgive me, but that's ok. I'll leave, once everything's set up. I was never good enough for this town. Jack '111' Carter. The only man stupid enough to fall for two geniuses, and feel bad when they chose each other."

Jack closes his eyes, unable to look at himself any longer, not as he is. He's so full of hurt that the twinges from his fingertips are almost soothing. The thoughts are starting to settle a little, running out of places to go, and the exhaustion seeps into his bones. And then he feels it. Fingers stoking his cheek, turning him away from the mirror. The press of lips to his, gossamer.

"I do." Allison says. "I do forgive you, and you are more than 'good enough' for Eureka, Jack. Now let me help you."

"Why?" he says, hesitant, scared. Like he can't really believe any of what she's saying, or doing.

"Because despite everything, you're still one of my best friends."

So Jack Carter lets Allison tend to the cuts on his hands, press more patches onto his skin, force a sedative between his teeth, even though he's so, so tired of drugs, because he desperately wants what he can't have.

"I love you." he admits as she tucks him into bed again. It's as easy as breathing. Which at the moment is pretty damn hard. But still. He did it.

She doesn't say anything back.

* * *

As soon as Carter has fallen asleep again, Allison tiptoes into the hall and presses two on her PDA. It only rings once before being picked up. That makes her smile, a little wry. He'd never been so eager before. Kind of ironic, really.

"Allison."

"Nathan."

"Is something wrong?" he asks. She supposes it makes sense. They haven't talked since the day of the wedding, not even at work. Made Fargo take all the messages that couldn't be sent by email. She's sure the reminder helps him keep his mouth shut about other things.

"You remember what you said? About how Carter" she pauses. "how Jack looked at you in the time chamber?"

"Yes."

"I think I understand it now."

"I see." he says, and Allison thinks that he does this time. He understands the fact that somewhere along the line, they'd fallen just as hard for the Sheriff as he had for them. It only took a couple disasters to figure it out.

"What happened?" he asks, his own worry so obvious. How could she have missed this before?

"I don't know exactly, but he's not ok. He seems to think I hate him. His eyes, Nathan, they were...he was bleeding and I...I've never seen him like that. He's almost died, God know how many times, and I've never seen him this bad."

"Is he stable?" he says, his voice thin, holding onto professionalism like a cloak to hide his anxiety, his fear. Allison should know. He learned how to do it from her.

"For now. SARAH can monitor his physical health just fine, but mentally he's not in a great place. I don't know what to do about that. To leave him in such a state is hardly advisable, but in this case...I don't know if I would be of much comfort." she says wryly.

"It is a bit of a catch twenty-two." Nathan notes, the line going silent as he ponders the problem. "Would it be any better if I was there with you?" He's very clearly asking permission not only for Jack's sake, but for her own. At this point though, her own muddled feelings about the men seem rather secondary. Jack's not ok, and Nathan is someone who cares about him. She'll just have to deal with it.

"It can't be much worse." Allison says. It's meant to be sarcastic, but ends up coming out as it is: a bleak truth.

"We'll figure this out, Allie. I promise." Nathan says, tender and sweet. She's missed that. She's missed him. "I'll be there as soon as I can." He hangs up. She takes a deep breath, in-out, and turns her gaze upwards.

"SARAH?"

"Yes, Ms. Blake?"

"Could you make some tea please?"

"Certainly Ms. Blake." the smart house replies, and as Allison makes her way to the kitchen, she catches two very quiet but intentional words.

"Thank you."

~~~

Twenty minutes and one and a half cups of delicious Darjeeling later, Nathan Stark arrives. Allison watches from the kitchen counter as he walks briskly in, looking almost soldier-like as he scans the room. She pours another cup and offers it to him.

"Carter's sleeping. Tea?" He accepts it with a slight nod, his jaw still tight. Allison pulls out a chair.

"There's nothing we can do right now. Might as well sit down." After a moment of contemplation, he complies.

"So." he says, taking a sip of his drink.

"So." she replies, not about to let him sulk in silence and make her fill in all the gaps. He catches on quickly enough, and he doesn't pull punches.

"We're in love with Carter."

"Yes."

"And each other?" he asks, trying but mostly failing to keep the hope out of his voice.

"I never stopped being in love with you, Nathan." she admits. It feels good, being honest, after all the lies and half-truths. "Jury is still out on forgiving you."

"Ok." he says. There's sadness in his eyes that adds years to him, and her heart feels heavy. But Allison has always been slow to forgive, and this is one hell of a thing to swallow. Especially when she doesn't even know where's it's all going to end.

"We can't stay like this." she says, shaking her head. "Stuck in this limbo of feelings. Somebody has to choose. Otherwise none of us can move on." It's a logical conclusion, and yet so difficult to say.

"I agree." he says, which surprises her. Nathan is stubborn, he doesn't give up like this. Maybe Jack really was better for him. "The question is who."

"It should be Jack." she says, and instantly knows she's right. "You eventually chose me, and I chose you, but he never got a choice. That wasn't fair of us. We asked too much, and it hurt him. That's the last thing I wanted."

"Nor did I. He's a good man."

"Wonderful."

"Gorgeous."

"Brilliant."

They look at each other, and for the first time in days, there are real smiles on their faces.

"We've really got it bad, don't we?" Nathan notes, and she laughs.

"I suppose we do." Allison says, reaching for his hand, forgetting that she's not supposed to. Thankfully he does, though he squeezes it once before letting go.

As if on cue, Allison hears the padding of feet down the stairs, a yawning Carter stretching his hands above his head.

"Ugh. What a day. I _hate_ anxiety attacks. SARAH, am I allowed to have -" His words stop once his eyes meet hers, awkwardness filling the room like water. "beer yet." he finishes, lamely.

"Hello Carter." she says, feeling silly when his last name comes out. Really, it ought to be Jack right now, but she's nervous, and a little scared. "Are you feeling better?"

"I guess. Bit stiff, well, everywhere. Pain's gone down a little." he reports, shifting from foot to foot. He has no idea what to do. Neither does she, but she hopes it's not showing as much.

"And emotionally?" she asks. Jack winces in a way that has nothing to do with the state of his battered body.

"Yea. Sorry about that. I tend to bottle and then it sort of...explodes. I don't really remember much." he scratches his neck, looks surprised at the bandages on his knuckles. "Did I break something?"

"A real iron trap, aren't you Jack?" Nathan quips before Allison can think of a good response.

"Hey! You try holding onto anything when they pump you full of more drugs than a high tolerance lab rat." he snarks back automatically, then freezes. "What are you doing here, Stark." There's a little flash of hurt on the scientist's face before he puts it together again. Allison decides she's best equipped to handle this. Somehow.

"Nathan and I had a discussion. We need to talk about our situation. We can not keep avoiding each other as we are, or Eureka will suffer the consequences." she says, knowing it's not fair to bring the town into this, but also that Jack will be more likely to stay out of duty than his own happiness. Which is a whole other can of worms.

"Not to mention ourselves." adds Nathan.

Jack Carter takes a moment to process this information, connecting all the mental dots. Even though he's not at his best, he's still the problem-solver of Eureka, and he knows better than to go up against the both of them.

"Ok. But at least let me have a coffee." he says, half to them, half to his house. SARAH makes up her mind on it, filling a cup with her famous home brew. He drinks half of it before flopping inelegantly on the couch. Allison moves to sit across from home, and Nathan follows, muttering something like 'it just had to be him.'

"First, I would like to apologize. Whatever my intentions, I hurt you. I'm sorry."

"Allison, it's not your fault." he says immediately, protectively.

"Then it isn't yours either." she says, nipping that particular argument right in the bud. Jack opens his mouth to protest, but soon closes it and nods.

"Second, I think we should get all the feelings here straight. Jack, do you love Nathan?"

"I don't know if this is the best way to - "

"Yes or no question." Jack sighs.

"Yes. Of course I do."

"Nathan, do you love Jack?" He smirks, not a hint of hesitation in his voice.

"Far too much."

There's something a little like jealousy when she sees the fond look they share, but it doesn't quite burn. Maybe because she knows them. Maybe because she was the one that had been chosen, the first time. They would be good for each other. Perhaps it was best to leave it at that, let them have each other. But Allison was selfish. She wanted Nathan to be a father for Kevin, she wanted to share dinners with Jack. She wanted it all. She wasn't going to give up her chance for _something_.

"On that point, it seems we agree." she says, reveling in the dumbfounded drop of his jaw. Had she not ever said it? It felt like she should have, that she must have. Yet she hadn't, not even once. What a terrible shame. Especially as this might be the last time. She clears her throat.

"I don't have to state the obvious, do I?" she asks, their attraction to her. The thing that had started it all, for better or worse. They both shake their heads.

"So....now what?" Jack asks, looking back and forth between them. Allison has worn through her ability to be distant, so she lets Nathan take the reign.

"Now, it's up to you."

"What do you mean?" he says, getting that little furrow in his brow. It's kind of adorable.

"Allie and I agreed. It's your choice. We'll respect it, deal with the consequences." In Allison's mind, she calls it fallout.

" _Me_? But you're....you were going to get married!" he reminds them, his hands flying out into gestures that his words can't capture.

"Not anymore." says Nathan, sad but to the point.

"Denying yourself isn't going to make it ok between us. So don't bother." Allison says, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Whether or not I forgive Nathan isn't something you can change. Though if it makes it any easier, I'm starting to think I should. I'm just as guilty, making it a competition, being mad when I didn't win. Maybe Beverly was right about me." she admits. There's no point in sugarcoating. Not anymore.

"She wasn't." they both say, practically in unison. Jack holds the hand that was on his should. Nathan grabs the other. It's grounding, especially when she feels the tears that have started falling. When did that start? She can't tell.

"I've made my decision." he says, with the confidence only his years in service could provide. A slow grin spreads across his face, the same kind he has when he's figured out the answer to a case after days or weeks. It's victorious. It makes her heart skip a beat. "I'm choosing both of you, and I'm kissing the thought of that psycho-bitch out of your mind." he says, cupping her face in his hands, pulling her so close but not all the way.

"Sound good?" he asks, one last confirmation. Her head's still in a whirl, half-awe - how could they not have thought of this? - half-elation - she's not the only one! Allison smiles, joyous and a little bit sultry.

"You think you're that good of a kisser?"

"I know I am." he says, and closes the distance between them.

* * *

Meanwhile, Nathan watches, rapt, as his lover and his wife make-out in front of him. It's something he had never even thought to fantasize about. He imagines it will become frequent now. It's only the tightening of Allison's fingers around his that reminds him this is even real at all. He chuckles.

"He did that thing with his tongue, didn't he?" he whispers, and her groan is answer enough. Still it's hardly fair for Jack to have all the advantage.

"He likes having his hair pulled." Nathan advises, and before he is drawn into the fray once more, he addresses the invisible elephant in the room.

"Hello SARAH."

"Good afternoon, Dr. Stark. How may I help you?" she says, the words tinny from a speaker to his left, quiet enough not to disturb the new couple.

"I suggest you ask Zoe to stay at a friend's house tonight."

"Already done, doctor. Might I say, it's nice to see you in the daylight hours." she says, confirming that she wasn't as asleep as Jack was inclined to believe.

"You too, SARAH."

"Privacy level four?"

"That will do nicely." Nathan says, and leans back to watch the show. He'll get hands on later, always the tinkerer, but for now he'll wait. After all, they've got a whole afternoon to burn.

**Author's Note:**

> [[returns to eureka fandom after nearly a year and a half with coffee]] 
> 
> yea i kind of forgot about this series until i was cleaning out my laptop and found the rough draft of this and then i was Determined to give them a happy ending. eventually. and to maybe project a little onto jack carter. who can say? 
> 
> still i hope you guys liked the thing and thanks so much for reading! :D <3 
> 
> p.s. lexi is out shopping and i totally did not forget she was still there. really. not that she would see that much b/c allison would refuse to do anything until jack recovers. i might write an epilogue with more fluffy ot3 but i'd have to rewatch to keep up with my (mostly)-canon compliance. remember: comments exponentially increase the odds hint hint nudge nudge


End file.
